


Internet Search: What is Love?

by simbascrawls



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Crushes, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Alive, Excessive Research, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, MAYBE I don't know yet, Painting, THEY'RE LEARNING TOGETHER, because I just can't help myself, connor is kind of clueless but he's still a brilliant boy, learning to love, they're just figuring it out as they go, they're not in denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-06-08 21:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15252582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simbascrawls/pseuds/simbascrawls
Summary: Because every good detective researches the topic before taking action.Internet Search History;FriendshipButterflies in stomachThirium pump malfunctionRacing heartWhat is a crushWhat are memesHow do you know you like someoneWhat is loveHow do you confessHow do you kissAre you sure you want to delete your search history? [ yes / no ]





	1. Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> There's not enough of these two and I really love them so I'm here to try and fix that. It's honestly the first fic I've done that I'm certain of the number of chapters.

It's been months since Markus' march, since the freedom of androids was proven needed, since the world was forced to turn and watch as androids stood up for themselves and their own version of humanity.

It's been months since the world was changed forever. And it's been months since Connor finally broke free of the programming keeping hold of him. Now? Now he's free. No more orders to follow, not more missions, no more misleading information on what and wasn't right holding him down like weighted chains. He was free to come up with answers to those questions on his own and, despite the daunting weight of it all, Connor is grateful it happened.

Life since then has been different, but also the same as before for Connor. He's stayed as a detective and continues to work as partners with Hank, even going so far as to move in with the older man since he had little elsewhere to go and now shares his home. Their home, now, Connor thinks to correct himself after a moment of musing. It was simple, but Connor couldn't say he was anything less than content.

The world moved on around him. Androids were given rights, were given pay, were given money to start off of, and homes were made available. It wasn't perfect, some people still carried tensions, but that was part of Connor's job now as well, to stop those that committed crimes against androids. Just as they would humans.

And of course, as the world changed, so did he. Connor slowly learned more of his emotions, connecting them to words and to causes and to himself. Hank helped him, as much as the disgruntled detective was able and for that, he would always be grateful. In time, he even removed the android uniform, finding it more stifling than ever as he replaced it with other suits that he enjoyed all the more. His LED, however, stayed. A personal choice on his part.

It was only when Markus and himself began to spend time together that Connor developed closer relationships with the androids at the head of change. As much as Markus often insisted that he was one of them, Connor always had to correct him. That was Markus' doing, but he would always be met with a look from multi colored eyes, just like now.

"I didn't do it alone and you were a big part of it as well, don't sell yourself short."

Connor's brows furrow in the face of the older android's smile, LED whirling into a spin of yellow as he reflects back on the other's speech. Cyberlife had nearly caused him to kill the other and he didn't like the idea, not the thought of being a puppet again or Markus being hurt.

Then Markus is leaning into his space and carefully tapping his LED with a gentle touch, "You're thinking too much."

"I'm often thinking."

"So I've noticed. Maybe it would help if you did a little bit less."

Connor can't help the slight upturn if his lips at the statement, Markus so honest about it that he doesn't even have a desire to fight it. And it's not as though he doesn't have some kind of point, with Connor's nature he was prone to more analyzing than was likely strictly necessary. He knows that, himself, but he can't seem to help himself. Especially when it comes to new things like that.

"I think you might be right, but I like making sure I have all the information I need for something."

"Like what?"

"Like.." There's a rare pause in his speech, eyes drifting away from Markus to look around them at the other android's home and their comfortable position on the couch. It was where they usually ended up on days like this, unless they were in the studio to enjoy quiet companionship as Markus painted and Connor read. They were times that Connor looked forward to, he realizes with startling clarity and turns his attention back to Markus, eyes soft. "I enjoy spending time with you."

Markus' eyebrows raise in a display for surprise of the direction Connor's words have taken them, but his expression quickly smooths into a soft smile that the other android can't deny he enjoys the sight of. It makes him feel warm, a good kind of warmth that he wants to hold onto.

"I enjoy spending time with you, too. I wish that we were able to do it more, but we both tend to be so busy."

"You're the one who is doing all the most important work."

A brief look of something flickers across the other man's face before it's gone just as quickly and even Connor doesn't know what to make of it before Markus is turning to face him more fully and fold one long leg onto the couch next to him. Meanwhile, Connor's seat still remains the same as he had first sat down, not stiff, but certainly not as relaxed looking as the other android.

"We're both doing important things. You're the first android detective and you're working to make sure everyone is safe, both humans and androids, you are just as important as I am."

It's still strange to be considered so important, Connor's eyes drifting down slightly before coming back up. One corner of his lips tugs down slightly as he speaks, brows twisting into a knot.

"I don't doubt other androids ability to get done what needs to be done, or my own, but you're the leader of Jericho, you're the one that set everything into motion. Without you, the success would not have been the same... or likely have been such a favorable outcome."

"So everything could be done without me."

That lurches Connor's gaze up and causes him to shift and shake his head, "That wasn't my point. My point was that while if something were to happen to you, there is a statistical probability that there would be a way to manage at this place in time... but it would never end as well as you being the one to do it. It should be you, Markus. You're the one who showed them that they could be more. And me as well."

Fondness slips into the older model's gaze as he looks at the RK800 and lets out a chuckle. "I don't think you needed much showing, Connor, you just needed a way out, but I appreciate the thought."

"It's simply the truth."

"I know, but I appreciate it regardless." Markus' hand comes up to place itself on Connor's shoulder and he can do nothing to stop the small little smile that comes to his face as a result, only faltering as the other continues. "And, besides, don't downplay your own important, especially on that night."

Thoughts fly back to that night, of what he had done in CyberLife and how willing he had been to kill for something he had actually believed in for once in his existence. He remembers being afraid of losing Hank, but knowing that he also needed to succeed and still not being able to sacrifice Hank because he wasn't a machine. And he couldn't see the man shot down, he refused no matter what happened, he refused that outcome. Connor had refused to fail this mission regardless of what happened, relieved that things had turned out the way they had only for the company to try and take control of him again. The memory of almost shooting Markus in the back is vivid in the way only an android's memory can be, something that will never leave him.

And something he will always be afraid of happening again.

And it didn't change that he was the reason Jericho went down in the first place.

"I'm just glad I was able to do something."

"And you could do more, if you wanted. My invitation is always open if you want to get involved."

It's a reminder of something Markus has offered before, not pressure to take it, but a gentle reminder that the RK200 thought that Connor was important. He already took Connor's advice when he was unsure of something to heart, even as the other android tried to stay as far out of the politics and leadership as he could. Surely that would only be increased motivation for CyberLife to take him back, something Connor took any and all measures that he could to prevent it.

"I know, Markus, and I thank you for the offer, but I prefer the work that I'm currently in most of all. It's nice to be able to help people and keep people safe the way that I already do."

The smile that comes to the other android's face is fond and warm as he nods. "Of course."

Silence follows that and there's simply no more words needed, they've never really felt awkward in enjoying simple silence between the two of them. Both of their lives were filled to the brim with working and people that calm moments could end up being scarce and rare jewels that neither wished to squander. It reminds him of how he could enjoy his time with Hank, Connor thinks. The one man that had called him a friend, the first person to do so to the point that Connor had felt the need to look up it's meaning.

 **friend**  
( frend )  
noun

 _a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations._  
_synonyms: companion, confidant, familiar, playmate._

 **friendship**  
( fren(d)SHip )  
noun

 _the emotions or conduct of friends; the state of being friends._  
_synonyms: relationship, attachment, association, bond, tie, union, ( informal ) bromance._

It had been fitting, he had realized afterwards. ( Even more so that he had been so correct in his use of bromance in regards to Reed when he had meant it in an insincere manner. ) Hank was indeed someone he was friends with, someone that he felt comfortable around and even would tell him things that he would not tell other people. He was the only person that he had ever thought to give that title to because up until now, he didn't think anyone else really fit the description.

Markus' laugh brings his attention back to the smiling android. Connor once again thinks that he truly enjoys that smile on his face. It suits him and makes the RK800 feel accomplished somehow when he's the one involved with placing it there.

"Yes?" Connor thinks to ask, head tilting to the side with the question.

"You're thinking too much again." Comes his reply, nodding to the spinning yellow of Connor's LED, but he has a feeling that Markus would know without having to look at the color of the small indicator on his temple. The other RK is simply that perceptive, it's a great part of what has helped in so much of the success that the androids have been experiencing and, somehow, Connor isn't made uncomfortable by the thought that Markus can tell.

"Maybe if you remind me often enough then I'll be able to break the bad habit."

That gets him another laugh and he lets a smile curve at the edges of his lips, small, but there.

"Maybe. Why don't I show you some of the paintings I've finished? If I remember right, you did like getting to see my last ones."

The topic change perks Connor's interest, eyes obvious lighting up anew and Markus only continues to smile as he stands from the couch and extends his hand, something Connor wouldn't take from very many people. He wasn't exactly a very tactile sort of person, but he still takes the extended hand to give him the help that he doesn't really need to stand and follow behind the other man to his studio.

Markus' home was bigger than perhaps he would have had otherwise, but Carl had left half of what was left to him to Markus and the other half to Leo. It was amazing how well the two had started to get along once they were able to reach some kind of understanding. Now they acted similar to brothers and neither had really wanted to move into Carl's old home so used it for other purposes. Connor thought it was just as well, seeing as the large house would likely not have suited Markus as much given the other android seemed to prefer something smaller, a place that wasn't as lonely when you were on your own.

When they reach his studio, Connor is just as taken in by it as he was the first time that he saw the large room. There's paint splattered on the floor in various spots from what has fallen as Markus worked and there's the finished canvas' from his last visit neatly stored away in one corner. The whole room is rather organized, but in a scattered fashion that fits only Markus, who just so happens to be watching the RK800 when he walks in with a light chuckle.

"Did I do something funny?"

"No, it's just nice to see that you still like the space." A pause and then Markus nods towards one end of the studio. "Come on, they're just over here."

They both walk over to canvases that are set against the wall in a careful order to be dried and Connor's eyes scan over each other them, simply enjoying the sight of them. Every time he sees one of the RK200's painting, there's emotions that catch in his chest that are hard to describe, but then his eyes catch on one in particular. It's of a lone figure in dark colors, dripping blue in a field of blurred whites and grays. The figure's shoulders are high in triumph from the look of it and somehow, it draws him in, like there's a sense of accomplishment and admiration coming off the painting itself with a force that almost seems tangible.

"You like that one?"

"Yes... I can't explain why, though."

"That's okay. Carl use to ask me what I thought of his paintings and at first, I could never get the words the right way."

"What did you say in the end?"

"That I guessed I liked it. Which was the truth, I just couldn't put it very eloquently, I guess."

"I think stating things simply can be do just as well, you know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it still gets your point across and that's what matters, isn't it?"

"I suppose so. Say, why don't you take that painting with you. I doubt you have much decoration in your room anyway, it can be the first one."

Surprise flickers across Connor's face, his edges soft outside of when he's working and they soften more and more everyday that he learns more about himself. Such as he has learned he enjoys admiring Markus' painting.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, it should be dry by now and I like the idea of you having it."

Before the RK800 can say anything else, Markus is already leaning forward to pick it up and he finds that he has no further desire to argue after that. The other android seems to happy at the thought of Connor having something he's made in his room and, honestly, the feeling keeps a soft fluttering feeling in his stomach that he doesn't know how to explain or describe or even how to start to identify what it is. All he knows is that when Connor gives him the canvas and their hands brush, the feeling gets worse. That's not something he feels with Hank, it's not something he's felt with someone else and he has to take a second to ground himself when Markus slowly steps away and out of his personal space.

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me, Connor, I'm happy to give it to you... but you're welcome regardless."

He takes a moment to admire the canvas in his hands before smiling up at the taller android, genuine happiness shinning in his eyes.

"I will make sure to find the perfect place to put it."

"I'm glad to here it. Though, judging by the time, it's time for you to head back. You did say that you had work tomorrow."

"Yes, there's a new case of someone luring in androids and ---"

Connor halts his words, realizing that Markus likely has enough on his plate. It was unlikely that the RK200 wanted to hear about his case or the details involving it, there was plenty likely going around in his head as it was. Yet, Markus is chuckling again as they make their way out of the studio and to the other side of the house once more. It's a nice sound, Connor decides.

"No need to stop on my account. We might only have a few more minutes, but I would love hear whatever is running through your mind if you're willing to share it with me."

The reassurance is something that Connor ends up soaking up like a sponge, taking the opportunity to run through the general details of the case with Markus. He keeps out super sensitive material, but he knows that the RK200 is more than smart enough to fill in the blanks that the RK800 leaves for him. It's a calming experience to be able to share his workload with someone who isn't directly influencing the outcome of anything that will happen once he gets to work. It even gets him more information as Markus adds in his own thoughts, the perfect contact is something that Connor thinks this android just might be when he really thinks about it. When he voices it, Markus seems all too happy to provide any help in the case or future cases that Connor might require, only asking him to call him should it be of need.

When they get to the door, Connor hesitates before opening and looks back at the older model and shifts, fiddling with the sudden need to ask this question.

"What is it, Connor?"

"Markus --- we're... friends, right?"

Markus' smile is instantaneous and as warm as a nice summer day when he replies, causing Connor's stomach to flutter once more as he answers. "Of course we are."

Connor doesn't think he's heard anything that has made him so happy in weeks, maybe ever.


	2. Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I started writing this chapter, something happened and I had to stop and kept getting nowhere, but it's finally finished.
> 
> Also writer's block is shit.

When Connor returns home, he is extra cautious upon opening the door as to keep Sumo from rushing to him and possibly damaging the painting he carries with him. He loves the dog and often gives him plenty of affection when he gets home, but this is one of the few times he can't do that. Thankfully, when he opens the door Sumo end up pacing by his feet before sitting down as Connor closes the door while looking up him with curious eyes. It brings some warmth to him that Connor has come to realize is associated with home. That's probably what has him maneuvering the painting so he can scratch behind the dog's ears with a soft smile.

"Hey, Sumo, do you know where Hank is? I have something I want to show him."

From the kitchen, he can hears a crash and then a curse before Sumo can even get up and trot in that direction. So it would seem that he has his answer as the android exchanges a glance with the great dog before they're both heading for the kitchen. There's a feeling of concern that grips him, shoulders tightening as he passes the threshold to see a can and tomato sauce all over the floor. Hank is leaning against the counter with a towel wrapped tight around his hand, grumbling. Connor doesn't even need to ask before he's carefully placing the painting on the empty kitchen table.

"I will get the first aid kit from the bathroom."

"You don't need to do that."

Despite the argument, Connor is already turning to walk out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom while Sumo starts licking at the tomato sauce. He can hear Hank trying to shoo the dog away as he pulls out the kit from it's place beneath the sink. Hank hadn't had one prior to Connor moving in, but the android had insisted. Inside are even quick repairs and thirium for Connor separated by an extra tin wall should he get hurt. Hank had been the one to insist upon it, quoting Connor's own knack for getting hurt and the android had accepted it on the grounds that Hank actually let him use it when he was injured. It had seemed that they were both equally worried about the other's wellbeing.

With that in mind, Connor picks up the box and carries it to the kitchen, setting it on the table next to the painting before pulling out the disinfectant and bandages. Hank is, thankfully, standing with his hand under running water to wash away the blood. From what Connor's sensors can gather, it isn't too bad, but he would rather be safe than sorry as he carefully holds out his hand for the other man's own.

"Let me clean it, it will only get worse if we let it get infected."

Hank's expression says it all, about how he wants to take care of it himself, but Connor tilts his head and lets his eyebrows rise and slightly furrow. The perfect reflection of puppy dog eyes that he knows will work on the other man. It has before and it does here, Hank letting out a sigh and shaking his head with a curse.

"Alright fine, fine. You win. Knock it off with that look, would ya?"

Connor can feel the slight twitch of his lips in victory and he knows that Hank sees it, muttering something about fucking androids, but it doesn't hold any heat to it. More exasperation than anything else and he's led to sit at the table while Connor disinfects the cut on his hand. His lips twitch in displeasure at the feeling, but he holds still. They've both been through worse than a cut from a metal can.

"I thought you would be getting a burger instead, lieutenant."

It's not even really a title anymore, taking on the qualities of a nickname now when they're alone and Connor slips into something more playful. A show of progress in his own personality and freedom to show it, even as Hank looks to him with something akin to reluctant acceptance of the title he's stuck with. One spoken with much more fondness here than at work, brought along with his name occasionally in private. A kind of dynamic that they've made their own.

"Yeah, well, with you cooking so much, I thought it was fair to give you a break while you were out."

"I like cooking."

"You don't eat."

"True." Connor says, while he finishes carefully wrapping up the other man's hand, not looking away from his work. "But I like it, even if I can't eat it, it's nice."

Hank gives him a skeptical look as he's able to take his hand back, swallowing the tylenol that Connor gives him dry. He manages not to 'scold' the man for it.

"So it's got nothing to do with feeding me? You sure about that?"

The android puts everything away in the kit and looks at the human man with a slightly off center smile.

"That's a bonus that I also enjoy."

Hank clicks his tongue as he stands, obviously trying to slip away from the display off affection. That's fine, Connor knows he cares in return, even if he isn't the best at showing it. The android spent a bit learning, himself, and he knows how to read the older man already.

Carefully, he stands himself to go and put the first aid kit back into the bathroom. Better to keep it there and not risk it being misplaced. When he returns, Hank has his eyes on the painting that he had brought with him from his visit with Markus.

"Didn't know you liked paintings."

"I learned recently that I like Markus', I haven't thought much about any others."

"Guessing he gave you this one?"

"Yes, it's a newer one, I was thinking of hanging it in my room."

The older man nods as he leans over to get a better look at the lines of the painting, eyes seeming to be searching for something within the white and blue and casting of shadows. When he's done, a short comes from him and draws Connor's attention back from grabbing things to clean up the kitchen, knowing Hank will want to finish the cooking himself since he started it.

"It looks like you, you notice that?"

Connor's brows furrow at that, attention pulled closer as his LED spins from blue to a questioning shade of yellow and brown eyes scan over the brush strokes. He enjoys seeing the other android's work, but he doesn't know how he does it. Something so creative and beautiful from simple strokes of color and a blank slate to create something knew.

"Are you sure?"

"Connor, you can't tell me that isn't you when you freed all those androids from Cyberlife. It's more abstract, sure, but that's you."

There's a questioning look that slips over the android's features, brows drawing together with the yellow glow still steady over his temple. Hank has a point, the familiarity of the scene there, even in the unique brushes of the pain over the canvas. It leaves a light fluttering sensation where his stomach would likely be. It's something new and he finds himself questioning that as well.

"I didn't expect him to use me as a muse."

"Don't know why you're surprised. Bet it's all over some of his other paintings, too."

That was something that Connor had not thought about and now that he has, it leaves a soft fluttery feeling in his stomach. Something he thinks he has heard before in the scarce romantic comedies that Hank actually, and rather surprisingly, occasionally enjoys watching. Old as many of them tend to be, they have at least given him something to work off of.  
  
"Correct me if I am wrong, but what would you classify as 'butterflies in the stomach'?"

He is genuinely curious as he helps Hank finish the work of what food hasn't been ruined in the minor injury that the android had walked into upon returning home. It wouldn't be enough to feed to people, but that's the point given that Connor can't eat. However, he still enjoys tasting things now and then.

"Uh -- you mean that old term of getting butterflies when you like someone?"

"Is that the only time you get them?"

"No, not really. I guess you can get them when you're nervous or anxious for something, could be excited, too."

The android absorbs the information into his data bases to sort out which of those things he might be dealing with. He knows it's not nerves, but he thinks it might be anxious excitement. Connor has always loved seeing Markus' paintings and to find that he might be the subject of some of them only fuels the desire to see more of that work. And perhaps also to see if there are anymore for him to enjoy.

Doe brown eyes drift away from the placing the used cooking utensils in the dishwasher to the painting as Hank goes to sit down. The older man is careful not to harm the painting as Connor stretches back to his full height with the dishwasher shutting behind him with a slight thump as it sealed itself as he picked up the painting carefully. For a moment, he finds himself enchanted by it once more.

"I'll get this out of your way."

"If you're going to hang it up, I have the sticky stuff in the junk drawer."

Connor doesn't correct the term of 'sticky stuff' and simple goes to the indicated drawer to pull out the adhesive that would allow him to hang it in his room without hammer a hole into the wall. Once he has it, he nods a thank you to Hank who just waves him on with a mouthful of food. The android is glad that he's eating more.

With steady steps, he walks his way to his room and takes a few moments to scan the walls for the perfect place to put it up that would fit well with the room. He was not programmed for interior design, but he did enjoy keeping his room neat and have everything where it should be. Organized was a good term for it with not a mess in sight, it almost looked like nobody lived in the room save for the few trinkets he had gotten from others.

However, the painting felt more important. Which left him with only one option; above the head of his bed.

With careful hands, Connor applied the adhesive to the back of the painting before purposefully sticking it to the wall with precise movements. He wanted to be absolutely sure that it wasn't crooked as he pulled back to observe it and could feel that little flutter where a human's stomach would be as a small smile ended up creeping over his face. It was a rather nice meaning.

Whatever the butterflies ultimate meant for sure, he was glad that they were there. Somehow, it also made him feel a nice warmth running through his circuits in the same moment that Hank knocked on the partially open door before opening it completely to get the android's attention.

"I got that movie you wanted to see and have everything set up for a movie night. Some classics and all that."

The words only encouraged the smile of Connor's face, looking to the other man, it did feel a bit like he found a family. A word he didn't need to look up to understand because it was here right in front of him with Hank and Sumo inside this house that despite outward grouching, he had been welcomed with open arms.

"Yes, I'll be right there."

"Good, cause if you don't hurry, Sumo's going to steal your spot and you'll have to watch while sitting on the floor."

Chuckling, Connor nods as Hank turns to go back to the living room with the android following.

"Of course, Lieutenant ."

"And stop calling me that, we're off duty."

"Of course, Lieutenant."

"Okay, now I know you're doing it on purpose."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments and tell me how you enjoy it so far? They fuel me.
> 
> Also! I have a twitter now ( simsbytrash ) where I yell into the void, feel free to find me and yell back to me.


	3. Malfunction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i got hit with writing energy i was so happy and ready to write more of this, i'm a little slow with things.

It starts months later, time moving fast with all the cases Hank and Connor end up involved with. Some people are none-too-happy with the new state of things and they weren't above using violence to get their message across. As much as it strains Connor, he always feels his chest uncoil when he knows that they're behind bars, just as anyone else who assault or -- in some of the disastrous moments -- killed someone. Because that's what all the androids were now; someones. It's a strange to think of it that way when Connor still struggles with the fact he has the freedom to do what he wishes -- within reason and within the law, of course. He wants to savor the freedom, but he also is still awkward in expressing himself. With how long he's been a deviant, he doesn't think it to be so surprising and Cyberlife had held a heavy and tight leash on him and one he doesn't want to think as he settles into his desk across from Hank.

The older man looks haggard, the cases taking their toll from him as well. He knows that they're doing the same to him, but that was part of working the jobs they did. And Connor takes pride in that, in taking the dangerous people off the streets, making others safer as a result. It's why he never left the job after freedom was granted. He wanted to make a difference, still does, but he is simply tired at the end of the job just like anyone else would be. So, he gets up to get Hank a coffee and himself a thirium packet, which is when it happens.

With his back turned to the entrance of the station, he doesn't see Markus walk with, heading over to Hank and asking where the other android might be after checking in on how the man is doing. It doesn't get him very far, obviously, Hank's grumpy outer layer masking anything else. However, he does nod toward the break area where Connor is making coffee despite Hank's grumbling. Somehow, the way Markus' face lights up upon laying eyes on the brunet warms Hank's heart, not that he will ever admit it. The two would be good together, he thinks, though he also hates the thought that Markus might hurt Connor one day and he's just too protective over the android to not have talk with him... but that'll have to wait as Connor is making his way back to them.

And really, Hank doesn't think either of them see what's right in front of their faces and who is he to interfere?

Connor is, of course, surprised when he spots Markus, actually almost pausing in his sure stride toward his and Hank's desks. Then, Markus smiles at him and greets him when he close enough, but somehow he misses the words exactly as he feels a throb and squeeze inside his chest that he can't explain. It catches him by such surprise that he just about misses Hank's hand entirely in trying to give him the coffee he came back with, already having forgotten his own thirium packet. Did Markus always look so... stunning when he smiled? Connor can't find an answer within his own coding and he knows now that he must have been blind before if he hadn't noticed.

"I didn't expect you to be coming in. Thought you had the whole android leader business to worry about."

Somehow, the RK800 is glad that Hank is the one that speaks, pulling Connor from his own thoughts that he didn't even know he could get lost in until now.

"There isn't anything wrong, is there?"

Markus shakes his head as he leans against Connor's chest and looks between both of them. When his eyes land on him, Connor feels that throb and squeeze again in his chest and he has to wonder is something is wrong with his thirium pump.

"Not at all. I had some spare time and wanted to see how you both were doing."

Oh, Connor didn't expect that and he's certainly not sure how to respond to it, he's focusing energy on searching in his peripheral vision for reasons that his thirium pump might be malfunctioning as it is. It gives his eyes a far away look to them or, at least, that's what Hank told him. He tries to be quick about it and he knows now that he might simply want to go to one of the repair places that have opened up, they would be able to check better than his scans, which maybe were defective too if they weren't picking up on anything wrong with his pump.

The thought that he might seriously be malfunctioning is a scary thought, one he doesn't want to linger and instead focus on Markus who is giving him a look that he's never seen on anyone's face before. Hank, however, looks like his brand of amused and Connor wonders if he really missed that much conversation. He reverses his footage quickly before his head tilts.

"So, this would be a visit from a friend."

Hank pipes in, "You're very first one, too."

When Connor goes to reply, Hank is already turning away and taking a drink of the coffee that he'd brought him. That left just him and Markus in the conversation and Connor thinks maybe the middle of the station isn't the best place to talk when they could easily be in the way of someone else just standing there.

"Why don't we head outside?"

"Sounds good to me."

And it is just that simple.

Both of them walk quietly out of the station and onto the streets of Detroit. Connor leads them both out of the way of the front door and to a side section of the building where they wouldn't be in anyone's way that try to go inside or walk by. Once they arrive and stop walking, a pause settles over the both of them. It's not exactly uncomfortable, but it still prompts Connor into wanting to talk to fill the silence and there is a wondering in his mind that he would like to voice as it is. So, taking a breath that he really doesn't need, but braces himself anyway, he turns to look at Markus and see how he's watching the passing cars.

"Markus?"

"Hm?"

"That painting that you gave me -- was I the muse or inspiration for it?"

The pause that comes is then accompanied by a look on Markus' face that is new once again. He looks sheepish as color comes to his cheeks that has those butterflies appearing in his stomach again. At least it wasn't his pump again, but he's so fixated on what the answer will be that he doesn't know if he would notice. Maybe he shouldn't have asked, maybe he should have kept up a casual conversation. However, after Hank pointed it out, he wants to know.

"You caught that, huh?"

"Actually it was the lieutenant that mentioned it. He also said that you like have me in more than just that painting alone."

"It's kind of hard not to. Connor, you are rather inspiring, especially after what you did to help the rebellion."

That has Connor stiffening, falling back to the times when Cyberlife still had a hold on him. Guilt wells up inside his chest that he almost feels like he's choking. In the name of peace he had hurt so many, had caused so many to fear him. They still do, even now, and he can't blame them. He, himself, is still paranoid about what happened with the company and how they tried to take him over. Ever since then, he has been methodically making sure his coding is as unhackable as possible and keeping his defenses high just in case. It was why he didn't take any opportunities to help Markus with guiding the androids to their newfound freedom. They deserved someone better than him anyway.

"I did horrible things."

"Because you had no other choice. And now you do and with that,  _you_ chose to decide to help.  _You_ are the one that still works at a police station to enforce these new laws. None of that was you back then."

"It was, though, I was in control, I just never thought to break the coding."

"Even if that's true, you thought you were doing the right thing and then you saw for yourself what they were doing."

"Only because of you."

The smile that came to Markus' face caused his chest to feel like it was filling up with light and catching on a heartbeat he didn't have all at the same time. A warning popped up on his display as a result and he had to gasp as his hand went to his own chest and his eyes widened.

Concern was the next thing to cross the other android's face as he reached out to steady Connor, the touch only making the feeling worse and words choked off in his throat.

"Are you alright?"

"I... I think I might have a malfunction."

"What do you mean?"

"My chest cavity feels... off somehow. I don't know what it means."

"Okay, then I think we should get you to a doctor."

There had been much progress in android care, now taken care of by android's themselves, dubbing themselves doctors just as those for humans and really it was likely a good idea. Even if Connor didn't want to inconvenience the other android... what if the malfunction got worse on the way there? It was logical to have more than one person in attendance should something go wrong. Connor was built to last, so hopefully it wouldn't happen.

"Yeah, that might be a good idea..."

"Let's get you to the car."


End file.
